Cowboy Angels (22 page)

‘If I knew anything concrete, Adam, I’d tell you. But I really was brought into this knowing about as much as you.’

‘Tom defected from this thing, and it started falling apart at about the same time. And Kohler knew Tom had defected, knew people were after him. That’s why I was brought in. That’s why I was fed a bunch of bullshit and set up as bait. Not just to draw out Tom, but also to draw out any bad guys who might have been looking for him. I was used.’

‘I’m sorry, Adam.’

‘I was used. And the worst thing is, I knew I was being used, and I agreed to it anyway. I let it happen and Susan was killed because of it. Because no one thought for one fucking second to protect her. Including me.’

Stone was having trouble maintaining his calm. His pulse was beating right behind his eyes, red and black. He wanted to punch out Welch. He wanted to smash everything in the room.

‘I’m sorry, Adam. Truly.’

‘Call Kohler. Tell him I have to go home right away.’

‘I don’t know if that’s a good idea. The area hasn’t been made secure.’

‘There isn’t what you’d call a funeral parlour anywhere on New Amsterdam. When someone dies, they’re usually buried inside of two days.’

‘I understand why you want to go,’ Welch said. ‘But suppose there are other unfriendlies involved? Suppose Altman and Marsha Mason had backup? A sharpshooter hiding out in the woods, say, waiting for you to show.’

‘Is that your opinion, or Kohler’s?’

‘I’d say half and half.’

‘It was most likely just Marsha and the ex-Marine, a quick in-and-out operation. Snatch Susan and Petey, hide them, wait for me to come back, and kill me. Or question me and then kill me. But they didn’t reckon on Susan.’

Her death was becoming real. Stone was amazed that he could say her name.

‘Maybe they blew it this time,’ Welch said. ‘But you know they’ll try again.’

‘Because they know now that I talked to Tom Waverly. Because they think he told me something important and they want to find out what it was, or they want to shut me up. David, I hope to hell you have Linda Waverly somewhere safe. They’re bound to have targeted her as well.’

‘She’s being interrogated. She’s as safe as anyone can be. And you’ll be safe here, there’s already extra security in the hotel—’

‘I’m not staying here, David. Find out when the funeral will take place. And tell Kohler that if he won’t make the necessary arrangements, I’ll make my own way home.’

An hour later, Stone was driven in an armoured limousine to the Pan-American Alliance Assembly Building and escorted to Ralph Kohler’s office on the thirty-fourth floor.

Kohler offered his condolences and told Stone that arrangements had been made to return him to the First Foot sheaf as soon as possible. ‘The funeral will take place at noon, but I think we can get you there in time. I understand why you want to go, Mr Stone. And although it places you in clear and present danger I’m not going to try to talk you out of it. In return, I hope you’ll hear me out. Here, let’s sit down. Is there anything I can get you? Coffee, something stronger?’

Stone knew then he was being allowed to go back because the Company still needed him, and for the first time since David Welch had broken the news of Susan’s death he felt a small faint hope. ‘Say your piece, Mr Kohler. Tell me what this is going to cost me.’

They sat in leather armchairs in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Neither of them paid any attention to the view across the sweep of the East River to Brooklyn’s crowded hills.

‘I’ll cut straight to the chase,’ Kohler said. ‘According to Linda Waverly, her father stole something crucial to the success of Operation GYPSY. Something that the people involved in it would very much like to get back. And she said that she needs your help to retrieve it.’

‘This is what she and Tom talked about, back in the motel room.’

Kohler nodded, calm and alert in his tailored grey suit and polished black wingtips.

Stone said, ‘After Tom shot himself, Linda told me that I could help her make things right, but she wouldn’t explain how. I guess she finally saw sense.’

‘Up to a point,’ Kohler said. ‘She told us that her father stole something, but she can’t or won’t tell us what it is, or where he hid it. She also denies having any knowledge of where her father had been or what he had been doing after he disappeared three years ago. We tried questioning her under sodium amytal, but she became delusional. She told us that if it all worked out, she would find her father and he would explain everything. And she claimed that the thing he stole has the potential to change history, but she couldn’t or wouldn’t explain how.’

‘Maybe she was telling the truth,’ Stone said. ‘Maybe Tom set both of us up. He told Linda half the story, and expected me to fill in the rest.’

‘That’s one possibility,’ Kohler said. ‘I have to say that it’s also possible that he wanted to send us on a snipe hunt, to draw us away from the real action.’

‘You think Tom was really working for the bad guys all along? You think he was spinning some kind of fantasy story, and killed himself to make it seem convincing?’

‘It’s a hard reach, I know. But Waverly told you that he was involved with GYPSY, and as for his suicide, well, he was suffering from a terminal illness.’

‘And I suppose you think that the kidnap attempt was part of this so-called story too,’ Stone said. ‘I suppose you think they killed Susan Nichols as some kind of
diversion
.’

Kohler didn’t flinch. ‘I think you deserve to know everything. I won’t apologise for having touched a raw nerve.’

Stone looked away at the blue sky beyond the window until his calm returned. He knew that he was going to be offered a choice, and couldn’t afford to let anger and grief distract him. When he was ready, he said, ‘All right. Where do I fit in?’

‘Things are very fluid right now,’ Kohler said. ‘We can’t rule anything out. So although there’s a chance that this could be some kind of diversion, we have to follow it up. We couldn’t get any sense out of Linda Waverly with sodium amytal, and I’d rather not put her to hot questioning. She’s one of our own, and she has an exemplary record. Also, breaking her could take several days, and we have to settle this as quickly as possible.’

‘Because you have to get hold of this thing before the bad guys do.’

‘If it exists, yes.’

Stone ignored that. ‘You’re going to let Linda Waverly go after it, and you want me to help her out.’

‘She wants you to help her out,’ Kohler said. ‘She was very insistent on that point.’

‘She can be very determined.’

‘I must tell you that in addition to the need for a speedy resolution, there are two other reasons why I have agreed to this,’ Kohler said. ‘First, as I have already said, there is a very strong possibility that this is a snipe hunt. Second, we have no evidence that Ms Waverly is involved with GYPSY, and she has a very good reason to play this straight, because she believes that it will clear her father’s name. She wants you to go with her, and I want you to make sure she comes back. You have a reputation as an honest soldier, Mr Stone. Despite that little trick you played yesterday when you dropped your tail, I believe that I can trust you to do the right thing.’

Although Kohler delivered his pitch with plausible sincerity, Stone was certain that there was more to it than he was being told, and suspected that he was probably being set up again. But as long as this gave him an opportunity to bring down the people responsible for Susan’s murder he didn’t much care. He said, ‘How do you want to play this?’

‘There isn’t much to it,’ Kohler said. ‘When you’ve paid your respects, you’ll be brought back here and put on a train with Linda Waverly. It will go through the mirror to the Real. The train will slow down, you’ll both get off, and hitch a ride from there.’

‘As easy as that, huh?’

‘So Ms Waverly claims. A simple retrieval from a dead drop.’

‘Did she tell you anything at all about where we’re supposed to be going? Which sheaf, which city?’

‘No, she didn’t,’ Kohler said. ‘We’ll be watching every gate, of course, but we won’t know where her father told her to go until she takes you there. Most likely, it will be one of the places where you and Tom Waverly worked together, but we can’t rule anything out. So, will you help us?’

‘I have one condition of my own,’ Stone said. ‘I don’t want anyone following us. No tail, no backup. If I do this, I’ll have to convince Linda Waverly that I’m on her side. I’ll lose her trust the instant she spots someone tailing us. And I won’t wear a wire, either. I found the bug you put in the heel of Linda Waverly’s shoe, and I had her change her clothes, too. If she’s got any sense she’ll take the same precautions.’

‘You’re asking a lot,’ Kohler said.

‘You want my help, Mr Kohler, and you know that I have a very good reason for wanting to help you. But you have to let me do it my way, or I guess, seeing that you can’t order me to do it, you’ll have to let Linda Waverly go in on her own.’

Kohler thought about this for a few seconds, then smiled and said, ‘Very well.’

‘I’d appreciate a sidearm.’

‘There’ll be one waiting for you when you meet Ms Waverly.’

‘And it really would help if I had some idea of what exactly it is I’m supposed to retrieve.’

‘We really don’t know what it is, Mr Stone. It could be anything at all, including a figment of Tom Waverly’s imagination.’

Kohler’s gaze was locked with Stone’s, his eyes bright and sharp behind his gold-rimmed glasses. It was impossible to tell if he was lying.

‘I guess you can’t tell me anything about GYPSY, either.’

‘I’m in charge of the investigation into the murders of Eileen Barrie’s doppels, not the investigation into GYPSY.’

‘I heard that it’s something to do with a plan to assassinate the President.’

‘There are all kinds of rumours, Mr Stone. I’m afraid that I’m not in a position to confirm or deny any of them.’

‘I guess it doesn’t really matter,’ Stone said. ‘One more thing. What happens to Linda Waverly when this is over? Will she have to face charges?’

‘If you’re successful, it shouldn’t be necessary.’

‘Draw up a letter guaranteeing her immunity even if we don’t find anything,’ Stone said. ‘If I’m satisfied with it, you’ve got yourself a deal.’

‘I told her that she can leave the Company with an honourable discharge if this goes right,’ Kohler said, with some steel in his gaze now. ‘If not, she’ll be prosecuted. For disobeying direct orders, for wilfully withholding information necessary for national security, and anything else the DCI’s office can think up. That’s the deal I made with her. It isn’t up for negotiation. How long will you need at New Amsterdam?’

‘As long as it takes. That’s not up for negotiation either.’

The ferry that linked New Amsterdam to the mainland was an army-surplus assault craft, a steel shoebox with a forty-foot cargo well, and a small steering platform and a powerful motor at the stern. Stone came aboard with a squad of officers in combat gear. The ferryman, Ted McDougal, ignored his greeting and busied himself with hauling up the bow ramp and casting off. Once they were under way, Stone commented on the holstered pistol hooked to Ted’s belt. The ferryman looked down at him from the slight elevation of the steering platform and said, ‘You brought a lot of trouble on us.’

‘I know. And I’m more sorry for it than I can say.’

‘Wouldn’t have come across for you if your friends hadn’t insisted,’ Ted McDougal said. He opened up the throttle, and the roar of the motor made further conversation impossible.

As the ferry butted through the swell, Stone stood at the side wall of the cargo well and watched the wooded shore of New Amsterdam grow closer. The sky was as flawlessly blue as it had been on the day he’d left, the sun golden and benign. Another perfect day on the breast of this wild, empty world. It was probably the wind that was making his eyes water.

Willie Davis, the sheriff of New Amsterdam, was waiting with two horses on the concrete slope of the landing. After Willie had shaken Stone’s hands and offered his condolences, Stone told the leader of the squad of officers that he and his men should wait by the ferry. ‘It’s more than a mile to the church, I want to get there as soon as possible, and as you can see, we only have two horses.’

‘I have orders to accompany you, sir. They come directly from the DCI’s office.’

Stone looked at Willie and said, ‘Are we under martial law here?’

‘Not as far as I’m concerned.’

‘I have my orders, Mr Stone,’ the officer said helplessly.

‘And I can lock you up if you cause trouble,’ Willie said. He was a heavily built man with dull brown skin, a shaven head, and a forthright manner. He was dressed in a blue corduroy suit and his silver star was pinned to the lapel of his jacket. The last time he’d worn that suit had been at Jake Nichols’s funeral.

Stone said, ‘What Sheriff Davis means is that this is a private affair. You guys wait here, and try not to get into any trouble. I’ll be back in an hour or so.’

He rode with Willie Davis through pine forest and a belt of paper birches that had turned early after the long, hot summer. Sunlight danced through yellow leaves overhead and yellow leaves carpeted the track. Willie said that he’d asked for the funeral service to be delayed after he’d heard that Stone was coming home, but the preacher wouldn’t countenance it. ‘You should know that some people are unhappy about you coming back.’

‘Ted McDougal, for one.’

‘Him and the preacher and about half of New Amsterdam. People are frightened, Adam. We haven’t had a murder here since Pete Emerson took an axe to his wife and kids and walked out into the woods and allowed himself to freeze to death. People are frightened and stirred up, and some of them have been shooting their mouths off and blaming you for . . . well, for what happened.’